


Universe's Best Dad(s)

by Elkian (SuperImposed)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Babyfic, Continuity: don't sweat it too much, Dadfic, Deceptibaby, Gen, M/M, Mech Preg, Not Beta Read, Rated for minor swearing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Universe is convenient and undefined and conveniently undefined, and suggestive themes i guess, mentions of sticky sexual interface, non-explicit i think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 16:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14957865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperImposed/pseuds/Elkian
Summary: The doc title is "Whirlock w/ babies because I have lost control of my life"





	1. Whirl has a GREAT idea

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Father's Day (if you're not on good terms w/ ur dad great news: Grimlock is your dad now)
> 
> The spirit of the holiday(?) has me posting the first part, this has been sitting in my docs getting worked on piecemeal ever since the Deceptibaby and my friend linking me the Christmas Special
> 
> (The Christmas Special is not required reading but I rec checking it out anyways. **tl,dr** : Whirl almost dies trying to save a baby that turns out to be a bunch of scraplets playing cuckoo. He's extremely proud of the deceptive little bastards. They're referenced as Whirl Jr.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavily inspired by zxid's TF Babies art here: http://zxid.tumblr.com/post/170020354544/my-discord-channel-was-coming-with-a-lost-light  
> go show 'em some love :3c

“That is a baby.”

 

“...Yes.”

 

“That is a _baby_.”

 

Grimlock’s gaze traveled from Whirl’s whirling optic, down his arm, to the claw pointed at the bundle in the Dinobot’s arms. He tilted his head very deliberately to make sure, visor or no, that Whirl knew he was doing this. He also tightened his arms around the baby pod, just a little.

 

“You got a problem?” he rumbled, visor flicking back up to Whirl’s optic.

 

Whirl flung his claws up in comical disbelief. “ _Why_ do you have what looks  suspiciously  like a **human baby**.”

 

A soft growl left Grimlock - or rather, _had_ _been_ leaving him, continuously, since Whirl’s repetition and now was growing. It was the kind of growl that made sensible bots drop their weapons and _run_.

 

Whirl, of course, is not sensible.

 

\---

 

“That,” Rodimus said with finality, “was probably the _dumbest_ adventure we’ve ever been through.”

 

“What about-”

 

“The dumbest adventure that people can talk about without getting thrown in the brig,” he hastily corrected, making Swerve pout a bit. The Captain turned to the control panel and held a finger over the one switch yet to be thrown. “Last set.”

 

He flipped the switch. The walls opened with a grinding, rumbling action that could probably be felt halfway across the planet... asteroid? Planetoid. Whatever.

 

“Think we’re gonna find a couple of mangled corpses and a puddle of energon?” Brainstorm asked curiously, tagging at Rodimus’ heels as the speedster led the way into the final room. The scientist had been instrumental in this incredibly stupid maze debacle, so Roddy let the casual death-talk go this time.

 

“Pool’s about half-and-half who wins. You ‘n’ Tailgate are the only ones who voted for mutual destruction.”

 

“What did you pick?” Brainstorm tried to asked, drowned out by Rodimus’ “You had a _betting pool?_ ”

 

“Sorry, Cap’, I meant to let you in but never got the chance.”

 

“That’s not what-” Rodimus cut himself off as they rounded the last corner.

 

True to prediction, there were mangled corpses and spilled energon. Less predicted were the count and description of said corpses - some kind incredibly-sterile/generic mockup of various technoanimals. Whirl sat on a literal mound of the bodies, taking pot shots at a few survivors, while Grimlock stomped around and snapped his jaws around anything he could hit.

 

“Roddy!” Whirl waved cheerfully at him with his gun arm - the arm holding his gun, not an arm that was a gun, and oh _Primus_ Rodimus you cannot ever say that aloud and give him ideas. Or give Brainstorm ideas. Or both at once.

 

Right. Anyways. The arm with which he was shooting, not the one holding the baby. Because Whirl was holding the baby.

\---

 

“-and I love Roddy to bits but if he ever tries to tell me what to weld into my arm sockets again I’ll-”

 

Grimlock’s gaze was drawn up from the floor only thanks to the (incredibly unwise) snapping of claws in front of his face.

 

“Yoo-hoo, Grimmy? I know nobody actually listens when I talk but you’re spacing out way too hard.”

 

“Me Grimlock listen,” his vox produced. He wasn’t sure if the thought actually went through his processor. “Not always remember, but listen.”

 

Whirl settled back on his pedes, optic shuttering a little more open. “Huh.” he muttered. “That’s a first… no, okay, a second, Rung is a first. Anyways!” The chopper made a decent attempt at clapping and straightened up a bit more. “What’s got you so down, pal? Clown? Dammit I should have said clown first but I thought it’d be too much. Please say something before I actually do manage to piss you off.”

 

“Miss her,” he managed. Grimlock realized how hunched his posture had become and slowly straightened up.

 

Whirl didn’t have features to soften, but neither really did the Dinobot. So Grimlock could sort of read him. “...yeah.” He tried for a conciliatory grab to Grimlock’s shoulder. “Here’s a bright side - Whirl Jr. is with people who can actually take care of her basic needs like, I dunno, water and sunlight. They’re gonna help her grow up good and strong. And if not I’ll visit Earth and fix that.”

 

“Yeah,” Grimlock rumbled. Whirl thought this was more of a sad rumble. Melancholy? Oh Primus he was doing the thing that Tailgate always did with saying Cyclonus had more tones of voice than ‘you’re boring me’ and ‘I’ll kill you’.

 

Grimlock. Grimlock is still talking. Grimlock is, in fact, unwisely poking a blunt finger into Whirl’s chest, right between the turrets. “Her name was Grimlock Junior. You Whirl already have Whirl Junior.”

 

“Uh, yeah, but there’s no such thing as too many Whirl Jr.s. And anyway the scraplets are still tanked. Literally tanked, not drunk, although, oh bot, that gives me an idea...”

 

Grimlock’s hands settled on Whirl’s shoulders. The chopper normally would have rankled at such a touch, but it was hard to get mad at how obviously _sad_ Grimlock was. Especially since, instead of shaking Whirl like everyone else could and should do when irritated, he instead leaned forward and pressed his forehelm to Whirl’s cockpit.

 

“No, listen. You… Whirl, you already have a Whirl Junior. I don’t have a Grimlock Junior. Not at all.”

 

“Oh. Ohhhhhh. Oh shit. Sorry, bud.” Whirl circles his arms around Grimlock’s and taps his claws against the other bot’s shoulders.

  
They stand there for a while, hugging awkwardly in an empty hallway, before Whirl gets a _great_ idea.


	2. Grimlock gets a check-up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a bit steamy~ ...just a bit, though.
> 
> Ratchet also vying for 'Universe's Best Dad' title, hence posting today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grimlock's speech varies massively between G1 (which I've yet to finish watching, admittedly) and the comics; here, he _kinda_ runs like Detritus from Discworld. Smart, but it takes him time to think some things out and he has to really think about how he says things.
> 
> This chapter is a little rough, I won't lie. Working on getting a beta before the next one drops.
> 
> edited for minor typos etc. Proofreading!

“What?” Whirl demanded as Grimlock slowed, hands pulling off a bit as the Dinobot planted his aft on the recharge slab. _Recharge slab_. Whirl kinda liked the roughness of it compared to the slick spacefaring berths, actually. For one thing, it looked like it could take the weight - and  _force -_ of the big ol’ bot that had _taken_ him to said slab.

 

The big ol’ bot who was not touching him.

 

Grimlock made a considering noise as he tilted his head slightly. When he didn’t respond fast enough for the admittedly-less-than-patient chopper, Whirl flung his claws up. “ _What?_ ”

 

Grimlock scooted back a little, opening his legs for Whirl to better crawl between, which he totally did immediately - although, when he tried to continue the march into the big lug’s lap, a big hand stopped him again.

 

Before Whirl could yell a third time, Grimlock _finally_ spoke. “You Whirl… kind of small.”

 

“Didja ever think maybe you’re just kinda big?” Whirl poked Grimlock in the chest. Grimlock looked down at his claw until Whirl un-poked him.

 

“Yes,” he agreed. It was kinda redundant to keep saying ‘rumbled’ but goddammit it was the best word for what came outta that vox - that _chest!_

 

Grimlock slid his hands over to Whirl, flat-palmedly tracing the air at the chopper’s sides. “But you Whirl… skinny.” He paused to gather himself for a more detailed commentary; Whirl somehow managed not to interrupt. “Your frame… is small for your size. Worried I might hurt you - worried that- that carrying will hurt you.”

 

Grimlock tapped a thumb over the slight scratch Whirl had left on his chestplate. “Me… I am big. Sturdy. Capable of carrying Dinobot sparklings.”

 

Whirl couldn’t argue with that. Well, he _could_ , but he wouldn’t be **right** and then Grimlock might change his mind about this whole thing and Whirl found himself really, really hoping Grimlock would not change his mind.

 

But this was _important_.

 

“Then how’m I gonna get **spiked**?” he demanded, arms flinging out again.

 

Grimlock laughed.

 

“Whirl,” he said, finally closing those hands on the chopper’s body, and oh shit he was so _warm_ , “you can get spiked and not carry.”

 

“Right. That- right. Totally remembered that.” Now if he could only remember _how_.

 

Broad hands pulled his body forward and a little up so that Grimlock could approximately whisper into his audials, “Me Grimlock help you remember the rest.”

 

He was so fragged.

 

\---

 

Recently, several bots had noticed a new fixture in the infirmary hallway.

 

Well, okay, not exactly ‘fixture’, but since all it - he - did was stand near the bay doors for about an hour and not move, it was hard to think of him as anything else.

 

The last few days, Grimlock had taken the steps - literal and otherwise - of actually opening the doors and glancing in.

 

Today, he actually walked inside.

 

Despite his nose already giving him the information, the Dinobot glanced around the inside of the med bay. Riptide was out cold on a nearby berth, First Aid leaning over him and glancing at a diagnostic tool from time to time, but other than that the place was completely empty. Quiet and still.

 

“Uh-” Grimlock turned in time to see Ambulon almost trip over his own feet. The former Decepticon made a swift recovery, hugging the datapads he totally didn’t almost just drop to his chest. “Grim...lock, right? Is there something I can help you with?”

 

Grimlock took the moment to collect himself and put his words in order. “I want Ratchet to check something.”

 

“Uh, sure.” Ambulon gestured to a nearby berth and relaxed slightly when the Dinobot sat without protest. “He’s in the back, I was just going to give him these, so it’ll be just a moment.”

 

He waited long enough for Grimlock to nod silently before scuttling off. Grimlock wasn’t exactly _offended_ , but maybe being strong enough for everyone to be scared of him wasn’t always good. Ultra Magnus was huge and strong but nobody was- okay, bots were _nervous_ around him, but no one was scared he was gonna rip their heads off. Except maybe the little white and red bot and Brainstorm.

 

Ratchet’s approach shook him out of contemplation. “Well, this is a surprise. If it wasn’t for your constant lingering lately I’d be worried you were seriously ill.” Okay, a bit harsh, but probably fair. As if hearing his thoughts, the medic’s expression softened slightly. “What brings you into the infirmary, Grimlock?”

 

‘The’ infirmary. Ratchet always called it _‘his’_ infirmary, but now First Aid was in charge. Maybe. Grimlock mentally shook himself and spoke.

 

“Me Grimlock here for check-up.”

 

Ratchet’s optic ridges look fit to fly off his face. “O...kay. What brought that on?”

 

Grimlock shrugged and pointed at his chest. “Check on spark.”

 

There was nowhere higher for those optic ridges to go, but Ratchet still managed to exude surprise and confusion, even as he wheeled a cart over. “Are you- dammit, Grimlock, if your spark’s been acting up and you didn’t tell me I’ve got _worse_ than a wrench in store,” he growled.

 

Grimlock felt a bit guilty at the words as Ratchet - his technically-creator - plugged what was probably some kind of spark-scanner into Grimlock’s arm and chest ports. Right, Ratchet was probably scared that something had gone awry with the spark he himself had installed, especially after everything both groups had been through. Before he could muster the words to explain, the medic looked at the screen and did a _comical_ double-take.

 

“Th- okay, this thing’s gotta be wrong.” Ratchet gently whapped the scanner with the back of his hand, scowling at the screen. He popped open his own arm casing to plug his personal diagnostic cables into Grimlock’s arm instead, glaring in concentration as he made the connection.

 

Stared at Grimlock’s arm. Stared at his own arm. Stared at the screen. Stared at Grimlock’s face.

 

Grimlock wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh or be worried. “Ratchet? What is it?” he asked, as gently as he could manage.

 

“Grimlock,” the medic said slowly, as if he were an animal that could be spooked, “you’re… carrying.”

 

Ah!

 

Carrying!

 

The words sent a surge of warmth through the dinobot, and he stood and scooped Ratchet into a hug before he could think better of it. “It worked!”

 

Ratchet was too stunned to even squirm, even before Grimlock caught on and loosened the hold. “You… wanted this?”

 

“Yes!”

 

Ratchet’s shock faded into an unexpected smile, faint but warm. He patted a hand across the back of Grimlock’s shoulders before the Dinobot finally put him down.

 

“Does that have anything to do with you lurking around the outside of the med bay?”

 

“Yeah. Knew it takes a couple weeks to take for real. Didn’t want any… false… positives. Or anything like that.”

 

Now Ratchet looked impressed, and Grimlock couldn’t help but huff a little laugh. “Me Grimlock **did** listen to Ratchet and Wheeljack lessons,” he said, almost wishing he had a mouth to smirk with.

 

“Primus,” Ratchet muttered - Grimlock heard his fans kick on at low speed. The medic shook his head and then met the Dinobot’s gaze. “Well, I’ll run some diagnostics to make a baseline and make sure everything’s running smoothly. Who’s the sire? Wouldn’t hurt to know their specs for comparison.”

 

“Whirl.”

 

“Well that-” Ratchet turned away from the scanner he’d been fiddling with to outright stare at his creation. “Did you just say _Whirl_ is the sire?”

 

Grimlock crossed his arms and gruffly demanded, “What wrong with that? Him Whirl like babies, like sparklings. Me Grimlock want sparklings, not hate Whirl. Is good match.”

 

“Babies. The Deceptibaby.”

 

“And scraplets,” Grimlock reminds him. He wonders if the little thing’s - things’? - tank is nearby. He wouldn’t mind greeting Whirl Junior.

 

Ratchet’s frown grows, and it makes something go tight in Grimlock’s chest, though the scanners don’t seem to pick up on it.

 

“Did he talk you into this?”

 

Grimlock can’t help the low growl he starts emitting at that, but before an immediate rebuttal tears out of his vox, he looks at Ratchet and is reminded with _painful_ clarity of his first real interaction with Megatron.

 

Of when Megatron tricked him - almost effortlessly, because Grimlock heard what he wanted to hear and didn’t question it - tricked him into nearly killing Optimus Prime.

 

The growl peters out. Grimlock manually kicks his own fans up to help cool off as he considers the question more carefully.

 

“Him Whirl make the suggestion,” he admits slowly, holding up a hand when Ratchet’s smell and shoulders turn tense, “but he say it because me Grimlock sad at sending Grimlock Junior to Earth.”

 

“Grimlock Ju- the baby? That poor kid with the Decepticon symbol slapped across her face.”

 

“Yeah.” Grimlock continues relentlessly. “Him Whirl had idea for sparklings, but me Grimlock wants them. Wants this. Even if him Whirl changes his mind and wanders off.” Grimlock crossed his arms solidly over his chest, his spark chamber. “Me Grimlock take care of them no matter what.”

 

Ratchet let out a soft vent. “Alright. It’s not my job to change your mind, I just want to make sure you’re not being taken advantage of.”

 

“Yeah.” Grimlock lowered his arms a bit. “Ratchet...”

 

“Yes?” It’s kinda weird for Ratchet to look and smell so _soft_. Grimlock knows better than most - at least now, he does - that Ratchet is far more bark than bite. But that doesn’t mean he’s used to seeing the medic like this.

 

Grimlock ex-vents, heavily enough to turn First Aid’s head for a moment. “You… Ratchet, you bring up good point. Me Grimlock and even him Whirl can protect sparklings from being hurt… physically.” Grimlocks loosens his arms to gesture - not helplessly, never helplessly - at his own chest. “But how to protect them from _that_? From bad people with bad intentions and smooth words?”

 

Ratchet waits until he’s sure Grimlock is done talking before he responds. “I think,” he says carefully, “that you should talk to Rung.”

 

Grimlock cocks his head to the side, not entirely sure who that is. Nightbeat and those minibots' orange friend? Or was that Ring?

 

“He’s a psychologist - a counselor, a therapist. He specializes in helping people talk out their problems and deal with issues they can’t normally handle.”

 

“So him Rung knows people,” Grimlock says slowly, not entirely sure he’s grasped the edge of the idea, but Ratchet nods encouragingly.

 

“I think he’d be able to help with that question, and,” Ratchet stops shy of actually poking Grimlock’s chest when the Dinobot growls, “I think it’d be a good idea to talk in general. Carrying can be hard on a bot for all kinds of reasons - even strong bots like yourself.”

 

Grimlock decides not to bristle at the cloying pacification… this time. He simply huffs out an ex-vent and nods as well. “Okay. Me Grimlock think it over.”

 

\---

 

“Rung? Yeah, he’s a good guy. Like, actually good, not like me.” Whirl’s shoulders droop for a split second, but he rallies fast as always. The chopper waves a claw at his lover - ? - nonchalantly. “Yeeeeaaah, I can see how carrying could frag you in the head, too. Wouldn’t be a bad idea. Dunno if you need it this early, but ‘s good to have the option.”

 

To Grimlock’s mild surprise, Whirl clunks the back of his claw against the Dinobot’s helm. “Just be nice, he’s fragile as fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if I should up the rating ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> If you have some constructive critique about this chapter I'd love to hear it!
> 
> I feel like this should have been chapter 1 maybe, anachronistic-style


End file.
